Let’s hear it for the boy.

4 04 2007

After nearly a trajillion grueling hours at school today I walked into my apartment to find that it had been swept clean from all the dust that I’d been detesting for the past couple of days. Not only had the dust left the premises, so had any evidence of clutter on the dining room table and the coffee table and any other horizontal surface upon which clutter could collect. My photos were arranged in the living room, books stacked neatly (whereas they had been thrown to the floor to make room for a pizza box on Sunday) and Dennis sat quietly at the dining room table gazing into his computer screen organizing photos to print out as decorations for my home’s bare white walls. (The only remnant of an excess gathering of stuff are the thirteen and a half pairs of shoes by the front door–twelve of which are sandals or flip-flops, one of which is a green pair of corduroy slippers, and a single shoe which Dennis brought from New Zealand to meet its other half here having left the South Pacific three months ago with me.)

Not only is my apartment lovely–or at least the front rooms, because, as Dennis told me, he’s aware that “girls have their own special ways of cleaning the bedroom” and he didn’t want to interfere with mine–he made me an Israeli salad and cooked me two tiny pieces of chicken so perfectly that I was rendered speechless AND walked with me to return two movies we had rented AND treated me to a vitamina for an early dessert.

Now he sprawls out on the couch reading one of my top five favorite books on the planet, The Glass Castle, with a fold of concentration on his brow waiting for me to finish writing so we can watch an episode of The Family Guy. Later tonight we will go down to Centro to meet up with friends and have drinks and then we’ll both wake up tomorrow at the same time (which will be a nice change of pace) and go to school together. I have parent-teacher conferences tomorrow.

And then?




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